Already Dead
by mxmsupporter
Summary: What if Mello survived the Kira case? With Matt's body getting cold on the hood of Camaro, what will the blond do?


**A/N: **In memory of R. I wish you didn't give me a reason to write this.  
**  
Suggested listening:** My Chemical Romance – _Demolition_ _Lovers_ [although Matt should be the one to 'sing', but this time it's about the atmosphere (seems like it's about the atmosphere most of the times O-O)], _My dsmbr _from Linkin Park's _Reanimation _Album

* * *

**Already Dead**

Mello sped down the road, feeling the air scattering his hair that weren't hidden under the helmet. It was calming… Or it would be in the past. In the past where the corpse of his beloved one didn't lay forgotten on the hood of a red Camaro.

He didn't even know why the new L didn't kill him when he shot a bullet through Takada's skull. He couldn't care less, really. She's already written his first name on the cursed piece of paper from the Death Note when he opened the truck. It should bring him satisfaction, make his revenge thirst sated for a moment. The fuckers that shot Matt were under her orders after all. But the weight of metal in his hand wasn't soothing. Not then. He screeched to a halt in front of an unsuspicious building facing one of the main streets. His hands shook a little when he placed the helmet on the seat, fishing the keys out of his jacket's pocket. Heavy booted steps echoed through the corridors as he made his way to the hideout. Icy blues refused to leave the floor as Mello opened the door slowly. He raised his head to be welcomed by a familiar sight. He blinked a few times, adjusting to the darkness of the room.

Emptiness.

He made his way to the sofa, eyes instinctively searching for the redhead usually sitting there. His fingers barely brushed the blanket placed on the piece of furniture. It smelled of smoke, as every fabric in this damned place. His eyes moved to the gaming device abandoned on the coffee table. Matt placed it there yesterday when Mello interrupted him to go through their plan once again. It was almost funny how the blue-eyed man desperately expected to see his partner there. The blond moved to the small place called ironically a 'kitchen'.

Silence.

The two mugs they've used yesterday were still there, brown dirt staining them. Matt grinned at his surprised face when the redhead handed him a cup full of hot chocolate. His goggles were placed in his hair as they would get steamed otherwise. Mello smiled bitterly at the memory. Tears refused to leave him alone but he never let them fall. Not now when there wasn't a person he could break down in front of safely.

No air.

Mello took off his gloves as he moved to the mattress placed in the corner of the room. His fingers felt numb as he sat on it, looking around, barely turning his head. He knew this place by heart. His hand moved to the slit between his current seat and the wall. As expected, he found a pack of cigarettes there. He opened it, snorting at the only one cylinder that welcomed him. Matt probably thought of going shopping when the mission is over, his carefree attitude assuring him that he would get out in one piece. Mello sucked in a breath, biting his lip to stop the pathetic whimpers threatening to leave him.

It choked him, he couldn't breath.

The presence of somebody he knew so well filled the room like a weak remain of yesterday's scent. The feeling was so overwhelming, like the whole world felt the same. He stood up, the memories of him and Matt laying there taking him in possession. Being as clumsy as he was, the green-eyed man stained his striped shirt with the last amount of chocolate. They had to lay down under a blanket, naked chest to naked chest, to stay warm. Mello closed his eyes, almost feeling the redhead's lips brushing his neck, whispering something about the weather and smirking when the blond laughed out loud. His glittering green eyes never leaving the other's when confessions were spoken almost inaudibly. His warm hands on Mello's waist, caressing the skin softly.

The blond shook his head tossing the package on the duvet. He couldn't stand it. He couldn't understand how he could leave his best friend a few years ago, how was he able to do so. Now it seemed like the worse choice he's ever made. They've lost so much time.

Memories.

Six years old Matt pouting at him when he made him play football.

Nine years old redhead clutching to him when he had a nightmare about his past.

His twelve years old best friend stealing a kiss from him as his birthday present.

Matt's sleeping face on the night the blond left.

His lips squeezing a cigarette tightly when they met again.

His nervous voice through the telephone when Mello called him to the burnt Mafia hideout.

Matt's eyes forgiving him when he was hissing in pain and shouting at him like he was the worst enemy.

The redhead's face inches from his when he pinned him to a wall and order him to calm down. It was the only time when the blond obeyed somebody since the Wammy's House times.

Mello clutched his head, fingers crooked like fangs as he was going wild.

Matt's hair.

Matt's gentle caresses.

Matt's whimpers when they were spending nights together, when Mello decided to ignore the investigation for a little while.

The blond fell on his knees, the train of thoughts speeding in his head. Suicide? No, Matt would kill him. Mello snorted, what Matt would felt shouldn't matter now, when all that he could feel was nothingness. If he killed himself it would be like admitting that he was weak. And now that the only person that knew his weak side, the only person that he let know his flaws was dead… He had to stay strong. But not as himself, that would kill him quickly. Living in the past was not an option. His hand found the mobile phone in his jacket as he wiped off the tears that finally fell down. – Near…- Mello croaked, his throat squeezed painfully from restraining the tears. – Could you do me a favor?

* * *

Mello stood on the edge of a large cliff overlooking the sea. The water was roaring under him, waves crushing at the rocks. His right hand rested on a little container standing on the hood of the now full of holes car, the other one clutching a cigarette. He moved the cancer stick to his parted lips, inhaling the smoke slowly.

Matt's lips were parted too.

His forehead was stained red, eyes wide behind the orange lenses. The blond closed these eyes he loved so much, straightening the bloody vest and kissing these sinful lips one last time. Matt tasted like iron. Then his body was closed in a modest coffin and moved to a red cave of the crematorium. The flames reminded the blond of Hell, the heat deforming the air into mocking faces.

Mello exhaled the smoke, ash falling to the container. He was sure that Matt's body consisted at least in 5% of nicotine from the amount of smokes he'd had, but this was the last one he would smoke. Even if he was dead. Mello killed the fag in the container, closing it slowly. He moved to the car, opening the door and placing the container on his leather pants folded into a pile.

Matt has always loved them.

They won't be needed anymore. Mello casted one last glance at the space, eyes sliding on various gaming devices and chocolate bars resting on the seats.

They would be buried together.

The blond closed the door, making sure that all slits were secured by a waterproof tape. He brushed his fingers on the red paint carefully, moving to the back. Mello took a deep breath and pushed the car forward. Camaro's tires squeaked on the gravel basis and then lost balance, falling into the uneasy surge. Mello stood like this for a moment, hands in the pockets of a dark suit he was wearing, hair tied up in a ponytail. His bike ended this way minutes ago. The car sank slowly, only large air bubbles marking the place where it would be resting.

The scarred blond turned around, taking his time in moving to a dark car parked nearby. A white haired boy approached him. – Mello – his voice was as unemotional as his dark eyes. Mello looked at the boy, his blue eyes blank as they were never before. – Mello is dead. You are speaking to Mihael. –

* * *

**MxMSupporter, 13.08.13**

**A/N: **So. This was born out of my depressed mind. I meant it that Mello started working with Near, burying his old self with the Camaro resting in the sea. He stayed alive, because that was the only way for Matt's death not going to waste. He died and was reborn as a heartless person not similar at all to the leather-clad blond we all know.  
This was weird to write because I love the version where MxM die together. But one of them alive is much sadder, that's why it was born now. End of transmission.


End file.
